


a wonderful thing to love

by claysalive (Icarus_is_flying)



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, mention and brief description of an exploded dragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icarus_is_flying/pseuds/claysalive
Summary: Swamp dragons were hard things to love sometimes, and they were not particularly beautiful, but she had found them worth the effort. She had convinced the older Sam. She could convince the younger too.
Relationships: Sybil Ramkin & Young Sam Vimes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	a wonderful thing to love

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the Florence & the Machine song "Patricia."

The sharp _pop_ of a swamp dragon exploding was commonplace in the yard of Ramkin House, so it was disappointing but not a cause for immediate alarm even on pleasant summer afternoons. 

Sybil sighed and paused in pouring the dinner fish and coal bits into the feeding trough. Like a swarm of bees, the dragons bunched at her feet, disoriented by their own rainbow colors, wriggling in the general direction of food. Sybil looked around for the poor thing that had made the noise but couldn’t spy it in the garden or the pens. 

Then came the wailing. 

Sybil’s heart lurched. She looked up. Up on the second floor of the house, there was something pasted across the outside of the window to Young Sam’s nursery. She dropped the fish and sprinted inside. 

Through the kitchen, up the stairs in a few long strides. Sybil burst into the nursery with enough force to almost tear the door from its hinges.

The nursery was dim, afternoon light filtering through the pink and blue curtains. In his cradle, Young Sam thrashed his arms and screamed fit to be heard all the way to Hen and Chicken Field. His dark down hair was all askew, and he kicked his chubby frog legs with incredible force, but the reinforced window seemed to have done its job and was in one piece. 

“Oh, dear.” Sybil peeled off her heavy mittens and checked him for injury but found nothing amiss. “Did that dragon surprise you? That must have been very frightening.” 

His only answer was a wail, his little face all scrunched and red, so she scooped him up and cuddled him against her shoulder. He seized hold of her apron strap and held it with all of his tiny might. She gave him a bounce and, satisfied he wasn’t hurt, carried him to the window and pulled back the curtains. The glass panes were all intact if a bit messy. The heavier glass they had installed had done its job. 

Her son wailed on, but Sybil kissed his forehead and began to hum1. Slowly, with motion and closeness, his squalling calmed to sniffles, and he held tight to her apron. Once he quieted, she looked down at the dragons in the gardens again. 

Sam would worry, of course, about the dragon so close to the window. It was his nature. But all the worry and in the world would not stop swamp dragons from doing what was in _their_ nature. But she could make sure Young Sam was a little more prepared for the next time. 

She dressed him in a soft green onesie and carried him out to the yard where the dragons were tussling and arguing over the dropped dinner bits. At the bright sunlight and the noise and the smell, Young Sam scrunched up his face to begin crying again, but Sybil bounced him again and turned so he fell in her shadow and took away one of the distressing things. She smiled broadly, hoping to divert him from upset to excitement. “Look, dear. Look how funny they are.”

He didn’t seem entirely convinced. They were hard things to love sometimes, and they were not particularly beautiful, but she had found them worth the effort. She had convinced the older Sam. She could convince the younger too. 

“See Lord Wimbledown De Fort there with the yellow wings?” She pointed to a wrinkly dragon lounging on a warm brick retaining wall, his tongue lolled between his teeth, perfectly content with the world. “How wonderful he looks in the sun.” 

Young Sam blinked, a bit perplexed. She pointed to two dragons tussling over a bit of coal. 

“And there, Lady Ethelblue and Lady Softford wiggling all over with their nice shiny scales. They’re very silly creatures, aren’t they? Tend to go up in a bit of smoke if their insides get out of sorts.” She tapped the baby’s round stomach, and he giggled and pushed at her hand with his fist. She carried him around the garden, pointing to the different dragons and explaining their breeds and coloring and various ailments until his upset melted away like mist in the sun, tears dried and forgotten. Eventually, they stopped back at the low retaining wall near the back door.

“Your father wants to keep you safe so you’ll never have to live through the kinds of hurts he has, and I think he will succeed. Mostly. But there will still be a first tooth and falls when you learn to walk and scrapes and splinters when you fall out of trees. A lot of dragons. We live in Ankh-Morpork after all." She ran a hand over his soft hair. "It is very hard to love the world when it can be so unkind. But there are so many things in it worth loving. I hope you do love it.” 

Young Sam only giggled and made a grabbing motion for Lord Wimbledown. Sybil leaned down and patted the dragon on the flank then prevented her son from grabbing the dragon's wing and showed him the pat again. Young Sam imitated her with a solid _thunk thunk_ of pudgy fist against scale and wiry musculature. 

“There. Not so scary, are they?”

He shrieked in delight and slapped the dragon again. It only gave a whuff of smoke and rolled onto its side. 

She and Wilikins would have to scrape a right mess off the window before Sam got home, move the crib closer to the door. There would be other dragons and other explosions--tears with them--but for a little while, her son was beating a syncopated rhythm on the side of a sleeping swamp dragon. The sun shone on them both. 

**Author's Note:**

>   1. It was a song adjacent to a bar tune and would have made Young Sam’s father gape in surprise to learn she knew it, but Sybil only hummed the tune.  [ * ]
> 



End file.
